The Finer Points Of Botany
by let-the-eli-in
Summary: A flower is something to be cherished, loved, and conned repeatedly into dating you. [a collection of DarylFlora drabbles]
1. Inate Mutterings

Flora had never been a sound sleeper; the shadow of the dig site always made night feel as if were a perpetual state, and thus made sleep rather hard to come by for her. It took sheer exhaustion for her to really fall into dreamland. So, as it was, the poor girl was tumbling about in her sleeping bag, accidentally kicking a thoroughly unconscious Carter. It seemed she would never achieve slumber; and of course, the crazed mutterings heard just beyond the tent door weren't helping much.

"Dear me, dear me, I must be mad! There is no scientific evidence to prove - no, not even a scrap - that she is attractive!

"Well, her eyes are quite beautiful, 'course I wonder why they're purple. Would make a wonderful subject for my experiments...

"And her laugh! And, and, and! Oh, there is so much about her!"

This effectively aroused Flora. The delusional rant had spiraled into a broken sort of laugh that sounded quite unnatural. Curious, Flora opened the door a fraction and peered outside into the darkness she was so accustomed to.

Ah. It was Daryl. That wasn't a surprise; it was widely accepted that the scientist was the most eccentric resident of the valley. With his shabby clothes and stooped figure, it was doubtful anyone could have to come to another conclusion. But he was interesting to Flora. She'd always wondered how he'd look if he cleaned up a bit; Daryl would easily surpass her, and perhaps many others, in height were he to straighten that forever arched back, bent by the weight of past failures. With a clean lab coat and his hair combed and cut, he could be positively handsome! This absurd thought made her giggle.

But her laughter startled the poor scientist. He caught her eye as he whipped around to the tent door, and promptly fled in the opposite direction. Flora laughed even harder at this as she watched his shadow diminish into the distant village.


	2. Following The Breadcrumbs

"I can't fail! My plan is entirely foolproof. The girl won't be able to resist!"

Flora looked up from her tools in curiosity. It seemed old Daryl was at it once again. The scientist had made her the object of his affections (if affections they could be called) for weeks now. She was usually the sort of girl who was oblivious to such things, but Daryl was not subtle in his ways.

However, she did feel a bit sorry for her eccentric neighbor; if only his insanity had robbed him of his ambition, perhaps he'd have an easier time of it. Not only with his self-appointed task of courting her, but of everything he tried. The poor man simply did not know when to give up.

Daryl was tottering just outside the dig site, a pile of expensive-looking food making a leaning tower in his arms. Flora watched him from the door, dim amusement spreading through her. She wished it was pity welling up within her instead of laughter.

⌠Oh ho, this is my best plan yet! One, two, three,"- here he set down food at each count -"Heh, it's perfect!"

The pile of food gradually disappeared as Daryl edged closer to the dig site. Flora withdrew completely inside, leaving the door open just a crack so that she might watch him. Daryl began to set down the last bit of food. When he straightened back up - or as straight as his arched back would allow - he gave a shriek as he came face to face with Flora, peering at the violet eye that observed him through the crack. Desperate and wild, he fled to the nearest bush and hid there.

Fighting to suppress her giggles, Flora looked at the food. Beside it was more food. As she raised her eyes, she saw that there was a whole long line of food; it began at her shoes and continued down the path until it ended at the door of the inn.

"Come on, follow it! It worked with that blasted white monster... _follow _it!"

Flora, all smiles, spoke aloud as she emerged from the tent. "Daryl, what is this all about?"

Making a sigh of conceded defeat, Daryl shuffled to Flora's side. "You, err... were supposed to follow the trail of food. But... you didn't. Hmm. Back to the drawing board, I suppose."

Flora caught him by the collar to keep him from leaving. "And why was I supposed to follow it?"

The man seemed to become a little sheepish at this question, and stared quite intently at his decrepit shoes. "You - dear me, how do I say this? You were to follow it so that I might take you to dinner at the Inn."

Instead of laughing, Flora stared at him in sheer amazement. "You wanted to take me to dinner?"

"I do believe that's what I said, but one can never be sure."

Flora couldn't speak for a while. She'd never been asked (or conned) to dinner before. She and Carter had shared meals at the Inn many a time, but all they spoke of was work. Now Daryl was standing beside her, having failed in yet another attempt to court her. The fact that she was being courted at all it surprised her, to say the least. And she'd rarely set eyes on the scientist before this whole fiasco began. The idea of going to dinner with him had never crossed her mind. However, Daryl wasn't a horrible person - odd, insane, eccentric, oh yes! But he was kind. In his own special, albeit strange, way.

"You know, you could have just asked me," Flora said with a smile.

"Y-You wouldn't have said yes," he returned, still studying every fiber of his shoes.

"Well, I'm saying yes right now." She gave Daryl her hand, which he took in utter perplexity. "Lead the way, sir."


	3. Screaming For You

"H-Hello, Flora."

The poor girl shrieked at the mere mention of her name, and the piercing sound seemed to have startled Daryl as well. The man had toppled unto his back, knocking the wind out of himself and sounding as though he was hacking up a lung. Flora clutched at the stitch in her chest, commanding her heart to stop beating so fast.

"Daryl! You s-scared me! I got so wrapped up in my work I didn't hear you come in!"

The scientist was on his feet again, though breath still alluded him. "Should I have knocked?"

Flora cocked her head in amusement. The man never learned. "Well, yeah. That might've helped." She stood up, dusting off the dirt that always seemed permanently affixed to her clothing. "So, what did you want?"

Daryl began to shuffle his feet, chew his fingernails, and perform every other nervous habit he'd ever picked up in his lifetime. "Erm… I… I-I wanted to give you this."

He held out his hand. Clutched within it was a small flower. It had suffered immensely in Daryl's vice grip; several petals were missing, and it's stem was broken. Flora looked at it sadly. She didn't even like flowers. Couldn't he have given her a rock, or some sort of ancient statue? But then again, Daryl wasn't aware of her personal preferences. No doubt he'd seen Jack handing Celia flowers in the same manner, and thought that Flora would appreciate the gift. She smiled softly; it would be so rude of her to refuse.

"Thank you," she whispered as she took it. Daryl, seemingly very, very pleased, tottered out of the dig site, muttering congratulations to himself on his success.


	4. Idiot At The Inn

A/N: I'm afraid I made Daryl extra-creepy in this one, but I decided to post it anyway. As long as Flora's not phased, right?

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"Tim?"

The Inn felt unusually empty. The hustle and bustle of its customers and keepers was much in lacking, and no amount of calling could summon them to Flora. So much for the thought of a dish of foreign food.

"_Anyone_ here? "

In eerie response the doors behind her were thrust closed with a great force, so great that Flora yelped in shock. She turned in time to see the ever-bent Daryl locking them both in.

"D-Daryl?" She would have been surprised, had she not grown accustomed to his random appearances. "What's going on?"

He smiled at her, a strange expression that Flora supposed was meant to be comforting or genial. The stooped man came to her, taking her hand in his with jumbled whispers of her blessing to mankind. Before Flora could protest, Daryl brought up his other hand to her eyes and rendered her world black.

With a gentleness she would not have associated with the poor scientist, he led her through the Inn. He was very careful in avoiding collision - with her. It seemed from the unsettling amount of dull 'thuds' and colorful cursing, Daryl was so intent on protecting Flora that he was not paying attention to where _he _was going.

At length they stopped, and Daryl removed his hand. Flora was greeted by a very messy kitchen - and a mass of uncooked cake mix, eggs, and candles.

"Happy Birthday, Flora!"


End file.
